to reign him in, a sister who was the Golden Child/Daddy's Flying Monkey, and a brother who just kept his head down.
I got the brunt of the frustration and anger of my parents because they wanted a perfect family, which we weren't. I got the most discipline and they framed it as I was the oldest and their initial experiments fell on me. What wasn't realized was I was a high-performing autistic child, which made me the virtual lightning rod.
I refused to go along when my father exercised poor judgment. I talked back. I argued. On good days, I was merely passive-aggressive. On bad days, hostile.
My father chose my college. My father chose my freshman roommate. However, all that stopped once I was enmeshed with my posse at college, all girls/women who didn't respect social mores, like to drink/smoke/f*ck and were out for a good time. We were different from the prep school debutantes in the dorms. I grew more independent.
Literally the night before my college graduation, my father forced a showdown on the porch of The House. I had arranged to move to D.C., into a Victorian house, around the corner from Art Buchwald, for a grand fee of $45 a week. Dad went there and didn't like what he saw: international students (one from Iran), getting up at sunrise for Sufi meditation, going vegetarian, and looking after the owner's 94 year old mother two hours a day. Dad went ballistic. He embarrassed me in front of my friends. I never moved to D.C.
Fast Forward. I went for "therapy" for 3-1/2 years twice a week. It was emotional blood-letting, but I didn't take any real tools with me when I left. I moved out of my parents' house when I knew I had enough money to be certain that I wouldn't be forced to return to them.
More Fast Forward. I carried my innate anger with me for decades. I lost jobs because I couldn't handle authority as I was reminded of my father. My mother died and saw a really cruel and vicious side of my father. A decade later, my father died. While admittedly, there was SOME relief when I knew he couldn't come after me (even as an adult), I carried the burden of pain thereafter.
Final Chapter. My sister has always been a narcissist, but I just kept out of her way. Two years ago, she mounted a strong attack on me. And I was ready for her. It was beyond nasty. This was the Last Battle. Instead of reciprocating and berating her, I just responded to her threat with "Okay, fine." And that was that. Never picked up when she called. Never responded to her texts. It's over. I just decided I had enough.
I finished my desired self-actualization at my present job. I learned to deal with difficult customers (retail). Initially, I was tempted to give back what I was given. Fortunately, I asked my manager to teach me a script on what to say to customers who looked to provoke me (or were just nasty people to everyone). I've been using this script with great success. I lost my defensiveness. I am a different person insofar as I am who I have always supposed to be. No past to determine who I am.
This video captured my journey.
If I can change, I'm pretty sure anyone with a desire to change can also change.
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